


Willing to Pay

by The_Bean



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Mirror Universe, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Dark, Established Relationship, Fucked Up, Growing Old Together, M/M, Old Married Spirk Challenge, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Some Plot, but this is technically OMS, happy ending if you squint, sorry if this isn't what you were looking for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-04 22:35:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16798399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bean/pseuds/The_Bean
Summary: Spock makes a choice





	Willing to Pay

**Author's Note:**

> Heed the tags. In my conception of Mirrorverse, placing any importance on consent is a foreign concept, hence the warning.

The lights in the cabin were dimmed to a reddish glow in an effort to replicate a Terran twilight and induce feelings of sleepiness in humans. As befitted their rank, the Emperor and Spock were the only individuals permitted to use this room, comprising forty percent of total cabin space in the small transport craft. The room connected to the Imperial Bedchamber (a title that technically applied to any bedchamber used by the Emperor, although this one was suitably ornate) and Spock’s own quarters. The Emperor was reviewing reports that evening, despite the fact that his human biological rhythms (and the ship’s standard lighting) suggested that it was past time for the man to sleep. But the Emperor had been occupied with various official meetings and dinners those past few days on his visit, leaving little time to stay informed of developments in other parts of the Empire. And so he reviewed and sent correspondence. The Emperor expected Spock, if he was not occupied with more pressing duties in his service, to lend his counsel when requested. Which meant that Spock would sit with the Emperor when he reviewed the day’s reports, and would respond when his opinion was solicited. Spock did not mind. Although some might think that by dancing attendance on the Emperor to such a degree, Spock failed to establish himself as a distinct source of authority and influence. But Spock believed such close knowledge of the Emperor and his deliberation process was useful. And in any event he did not feel fatigued as a human would.

Spock watched the Emperor. His mouth was a thin line, his jaw moved slowly--a long-standing ingrained habit. Spock’s attention to those small mannerism had proved useful over the years they had worked together, as far back as their time on the ISS Enterprise. But even though he continued to use his knowledge of the Emperor’s moods to inform his own actions, he reflected that the true motivations for his close study went beyond practical purposes. Spock had realized recently that he hungrily sought proof that the Emperor was the same man who had captained the ISS Enterprise with Spock as his first officer. Spock had found that man fascinating when he first met him. Spock had been frightened by his own eagerness to throw his lot in with Commander Kirk and abandon Pike, whose leadership had been cruel but predictable. Kirk was not predictable. That’s what made him so difficult to outmaneuver. Many had tried, but so far none had succeeded.

The Emperor looked up and rolled his shoulders. “Well, Minister Spock, I’m satisfied that the Empire shall live to see another day at least.”

“Excellent your Imperial Highness.”

Abruptly the Emperor rose and strode to across the room. He opened a cabinet. It produced two drinks. Kirk handed one to Spock. He sat next to Spock on the same extended seat, moving aside a cushion. To an outsider, the Emperor handing anyone a drink, outside of a negotiation with the head of a rival power, would look unusual. A inexplicable show of deference to his Minister of State. But Spock knew that implicit in such a gesture was a command. The drink was prepared with chocolate liquor. Spock has surmised that at such times the Emperor wanted him slightly dulled and compliant. In this too, Spock did not mind because only when both Spock and the Emperor were sufficiently intoxicated, would the Emperor initiate the sort of sexual activities that Spock liked best. Certainly Spock felt pride that he alone knew the breadth of the Emperor’s tastes. And Spock appreciated the variety, in terms of physical sensation that came from penetrating the Emperor on occasion. But most of all he found the Emperor’s loud need for Spock to be just as intoxicating as the chocolate. A need he denied himself until he relented, then to withdraw and begin the cycle anew. Spock raised his glass and drank.

Spock felt his lover’s hand settle on the inside of his thigh. “You’ve been quiet today.”

“Forgive me, Emperor. The emotions of the inhabitants here are impossible for me to completely avoid, and very draining. I will better serve you when I have been able to meditate.”

Spock took another drink. The Emperor did the same. Spock finished his glass so that the Emperor would know it was safe to finish his own. Spock moved from his seat on the divan and knelt between the Emperor’s knees. Spock’s hands resting on the Emperor’s legs.

“Please let me serve you now your Imperial Highness.”

The Emperor relaxed into the cushions and smiled at Spock. Spock moved forward to lean over the Emperor, bracing himself above the other man.

The Emperor’s hands ran up and down Spock’s sides. He lifted Spock’s shirt and slipped his hands beneath it, the skin of the Emperor’s palms flush against Spock’s unguarded stomach. Their lips met. The Emperor exhaled through his nose and gave a small grunt. Spock found that the Emperor was letting him set the rhythm. Now secure in the knowledge had been correct about the Emperor’s intentions for the night, Spock allowed his weight to settle on the Emperor, groin against groin. His right hand gripping the back of the Emperor’s head, his left beneath the Emperor's buttocks, pulling the Emperor even more tightly against him. The Emperor moaned again.

Spock broke away from the embrace and opened the emperor’s robe. Finding the waistband of the trousers the Emperor wore underneath, Spock pulled them off quickly, the Emperor helpfully raising his hips. Spock located a jar of lubricant in a nearby cabinet. He set it it within reach of the Emperor, as taking some to coat himself. The Emperor wasted no time in preparing himself, all the while watching Spock intently. Spock loomed over the Emperor and grabbed his phallus, teasing the Emperor with light strokes despite his sounds of frustration.

The Emperor’s head hit the cushions behind him. His fingers moving inside himself as Spock worked his shaft. “Yes. Yes, Spock.”

Spock watched the Emperor’s face in that unguarded moment. Eyes closed, mouth parted. He watched the way his chest rose and fell with each stroke of Spock’s hand. The Emperor’s eyes opened and met Spock’s. He began to sit up, and Spock moved back to allow him. The Emperor’s hands came to Spock’s shoulders, and Spock understood he was being guided to sit on the divan himself. The Emperor swung his leg over Spock’s torso. Without warning, he crushed his lips to Spock’s gripping the back of Spock’s head. With his other hand, he applied the lubricant to Spock’s penis. Spock thrust into his touch. The Emperor’s mouth was unrelenting. Moving quickly, his lips pressed and retreated from Spock’s mouth. Spock matched his pace. Then, the Emperor drew back. Spock brought his hand to his own penis to keep it pointing upwards as the Emperor sank down on his length. Once the Emperor had fully taken Spock within him, Spock began to thrust upwards. Although he was constrained by their respective positions, Spock’s Vulcan strength allowed him to lift the Emperor up with each move of his hips.

The Emperor let out a series of grunts, his thighs working to drive himself down to meet Spock’s thrusts. Spock’s hand once again wrapped around the Emperor’s penis. Spock’s other hand grasped the Emperor’s ass, urging him on. The Emperor gripped Spock’s shoulders, tightly enough that Spock knew he would bear bruises the next day.

“Spock” the Emperor repeated.

“Jim.”

“Yes. Yes, ah Spock just like that. Ah, fuck me.”

“Yes Jim.”

The Emperor’s whole body jerked and froze as he spilled over Spock’s hand.

Spock increased his tempo and came.

The Emperor, feeling the effects of his drink and the haze of orgasm, dropped across Spock. Spock knew that eventually he would have to move, but for now he waited, knowing that if he moved, the Emperor would not resume his position on top of Spock, chest to chest, head on Spock’s shoulder.

This time, it was the Emperor who rose first. Spock rolled to the side as the Emperor stood and went into his quarters. Spock could hear the sound of the water shower. The Emperor had left the door to his bedroom open, and closed the door to the bedroom. The Emperor was in a good enough mood to permit Spock to spend the night in his bed. Spock decided he would clean himself in his own quarters, not wanting to follow the Emperor all the way inside to his bathroom without an invitation.

When Spock returned to the door to the Emperor’s room, the Emperor was still in his bathroom. Spock sat on the edge of the bed, not trusting himself to stay awake if he laid down. So he waited in the darkness. Although Spock always allowed the Emperor to think that imbibing the chocolate cocktail made him more intoxicated than he actually was, he too felt drowsy.

Finally, the Emperor’s silhouette appeared in the doorway. Hearing no word of protest, Spock climbed into the bed and got under the covers. The Emperor joined him silently. 

* * *

When Spock awoke the Emperor was still sleeping. He was grateful of the opportunity to see his full of the Emperor in this state. Nude and on his back. One arm was flung over his head, the other rested on his stomach. Although the Emperor had gained some fat in his waist, he had been fastidious about maintaining his strength. Assassins lurked behind every curtain and he could not allow his physical condition to deteriorate. Yet that had not stopped many from seeing his age as an invitation to make an attempt to unseat him. So far none had been successful. But Spock knew that perception of strength, both physical, and political, were just as important has actual strength.

The Emperor stirred. Spock looked at the ceiling.

“Decker’s men.”

“Yes?”

“Do you think we caught them all?”

“Unlikely. But they are also unlikely to threaten you with their leader gone.”

“I should have just blown up that entire ship. Now the next time some captain gets it in his head to turn against me, the crew will go along with it, knowing I will spare them.”

“We wouldn’t have had enough fuel to make it back to the next station. You can always have them executed when they reach Andoria, your Majesty.”

The Emperor’s only response was a huff. After a moment, he said “Spock perhaps we should just retire. Some cabin in the woods in some backwater planet. Hm?”

“A most logical path, your Imperial Highness.”

“Logical? How in the world is that logical? No Emperor has ever retired. I mean, there isn’t anywhere I could go where I wouldn’t be recognized? Besides what would I be if I didn’t have my command.”

* * *

Spock recognized the irony of it all. James Kirk was ultimately defeated by his own counterpart. Although Spock had not immediately acted on the information the other Jim had given him, he had not forgotten it. And now he knew it was time to finally use it. The modifications he had made to the Tantulus were installed. The only remaining obstacle was to get the Emperor to comply with this last set of requests. He was sure that the Tantulus was generally accurate, but the margin of error meant Spock could take no chances. Through the screen, Spock could see his lover, comrade at arms, leader of the last two decades. He carried the supplies Spock had insisted he bring, even though (as far as the Emperor knew) it was only supposed to be a routine beam-down. He wore the cold weather outfit Spock had insisted he wear, complete with boots and gloves even though he was to be be received by the leaders of the planet for a tribute ceremony immediately. Spock saw all this, and he saw the expression on Jim’s face in the 0.6 seconds between when he realized he’d been betrayed, and when he disappeared.

* * *

Spock knew it was illogical to be so preoccupied with his own vanity at a time like this. But he couldn’t stop himself from looking into the mirror in the bathroom of the house he’d prepared. Searching his face for traces of the person he’d been almost a century ago when he’d last seen his Jim Kirk.

He had failed at everything else he had set out to do. He had thought he could bring a time of peace and stability to the Empire, but he had brought about its destruction instead. He did not know if he could bear having failed at this too. He had decades to plan, to accumulate supplies, to prepare this place. He believed he had brought every conceivable item that might be wanted. Replicators, backup supplies in case the replicators failed, a computer with all the Great Terran Library’s volumes and paper books in case that failed as well. Seeds and farming equipment. Supplies for hiking and rock climbing. Comfortable furniture. Everything was properly in its place. He had only to wait another forty two minutes and thirteen seconds. Spock took a seat in one of the two chairs by the fireplace. He had started a fire. He had recalled that Jim used to find a fireplace relaxing, even though they were never necessary.

Another twenty three minutes and fifty eight seconds remain. Spock realized his pulse has quickened. He exercised his controls, suppressing the adrenaline that is coursing through him.

Four minutes. Spock gripped the armrests of his chair. Despite his controls, he felt a weight in his stomach.

It was time. A high pitched noise outside the cabin. Thirty seconds of silence. Then a crash as the door was kicked open. James Kirk with his knife unsheathed and phaser out stepped across the threshold. As his eyes adjust to the light, he saw Spock.

“You! Let me see your hands.” He shouted.

Spock obliged. Jim steppe closer.

“Hello old friend.”

“You! Traitorous bastard. Where did you send me?”

“It is not so much where, as when, Jim.”

“Is that why you’re so old?”

“Indeed. Did you know that the Tantulus was actually sending people through time?”

Jim watched him warily, his phaser still pointed at Spock. “And that’s what you did to me?”

“Yes.”

“And took my place?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll have it back!”

“The Empire has fallen, Jim. Many decades now.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“That would be most illogical. You have no means of leaving this place. Would you really condemn yourself to spend the rest of your life alone, Jim?”

Jim gave a loud shout and threw the phaser at Spock, clipping his shoulder and shooting a hole into the wall of the cabin. Spock recovered and was ready as Jim charged him, knife unsheathed. Grabbing both of his arms, Spock held Jim away from him.

“Drop the knife please.”

“Fuck you.”

Spock squeezed his wrists. The man gripped the knife tighter. Spock twisted his right arm. Jim refused to cry out, but eventually he let go of his weapon.

“Fuck you Spock.”

* * *

Spock gave Jim a wide berth for the first three weeks. They didn’t speak. Jim ignored any proffered food or drink, preferring to scrounge in the pantry. He tried to kill Spock six times. The attempts became more half-hearted as time passed.

On the twenty third day, Jim smacked a cup of coffee that had been sitting in front of Spock. “How can you just sit there??!” He shouted.

Spock rose. “Enough.”

“Yeah, what are you going to do about it?”

Spock allowed a small curl of his lips. He knew this mood. He knew it well.

Jim stood his ground. Fists balled. Looking like he wanted a fight.

Spock grabbed Jim around the waist and hoisted him above his shoulder. Jim beat uselessly against Spock and pulled his hair. Spock carried Jim to Spock’s bedroom. Threw him onto the bed. Spock used a voice command to lock the door. Although Jim tried to get away, Spock grabbed at the waist of his pants and pulled them off, along with his underwear.

“This will go better if you prepare yourself, Jim.”

“Fuck you.”

“Certainly, but not today."

Spock took a bottle of lubricant from his bedside. Jim watched him but made no move to try to escape.

Spock poured a generous amount onto his hand. He leaned over Jim and pinned both of his arms with Spock’s other arm. Reaching down, he shoved two fingers into Jim. Jim squirmed. Spock persisted. Jim tried to roll away but Spock shoved a third finger into his anus. When Spock was satisfied that Jim had been adequately stretched, he temporarily released him. Covering himself with lubricant, he watched Jim watching him, Jim’s cock half hard already. Jim did not protest when Spock grabbed his hips and lined himself up at his entrance. Jim let out a cry as Spock breached him, and made rhythmic moans as Spock pounded into him. Jim allowed himself to be fucked on all fours, head bowed. Spock leaned over to bite Jim’s shoulder, Suddenly Jim shifted his weight, attempting to get out from under Spock. Spock caught Jim’s arms, pinning them to the bed. He shifted his weight to bring it all to bear on the prone Jim. Although Jim continued to struggled underneath him, he was no match for the Vulcan’s strength. Spock rolled them both onto their sides and grabbed Jim’s cock. It only took a few strokes before Jim was coming, his head buried in a pillow. Spock’s release came shortly after.

They lay in silence for some time. Then Jim spoke. “You know I’ll never forgive you?”

“That is a price I am willing to pay.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically what happened when I wondered why there was no OMS Mirrorverse. The getting old part would presumably create some issues. 
> 
> This isn't based on any particular mirrorverse timeline. There was a rejected script idea where the Tantalus didn't kill people, but just sent them to a different time, so I borrowed that. There are also some Star Trek novels where Spock kills Kirk and one where he becomes Emperor himself, so I generally borrowed that too. 
> 
> Reviews are always appreciated.


End file.
